Prepared

Chapter Two

It could have been worse. I could have been punished. This was more like a privilege, a reward, but a reward with consequences of injury.

I had been sent to this new place to further my training for two weeks and develop my close range and rifle shooting skills.

“This place isn’t the same as the academy,” Major General Harris told me. “Here it is a lot tougher and you will have to make life or death decisions when you shoot, when you hit, when you run. Do you understand?”

I nodded, “I understand.”

“Your training begins tomorrow. You will be woken up at 05:00 hours. I suggest you go to sleep now.”

I nodded, following an officer to my temporary room.

I awoke the next morning at 04:30, long before anyone came to get me. I took a shower, changed into the uniform, did the bed, and tied my hair up into a tight bun.

The morning started with a run and everyone had to run at the same pace. I didn’t mind it because we were going pretty fast, but it felt crowded because everyone was taller than me and we had to run in a group.

When we were done I was moved on to weapons training. I learnt how to put a gun together and take it apart and within an hour I was able to do it with one hand. I then moved on to shooting close range, far range and at angled positions.

No one questioned why there was an eleven-year-old training with adults, but I still received questioning looks by the trainees, officers and sergeants who were not high enough in rank to be privy to the knowledge of the Academy and its project.

I watched the men and women as they trained, interacted, talked. Everyone was prominently friendly, close, happy. There were tensions between people too and they disagreed and argued and fought, but mostly what I noticed was that there was a huge show of emotions whether positive or negative.

The open show of emotions was a little overwhelming. It was very different to the Academy where we were encouraged to keep our feelings at bay. At most we could convey our thoughts but we were taught to not be sentimental.

Training wasn’t too hard and by the end of the two weeks I was teaching a trainee – a woman of twenty three – how to shoot long distance with a gun. Her aim was really bad, but by the end of the two weeks she got better.

I had also become a better sniper. I could shoot at any angle and any distance with the right rifle. Everything had become a calculation – from the range of the rifle to the target’s co-ordinates.

By the end of my training, Major General Harris had set out a test for me.

“You’re an extremely quick learner,” the Major General remarked when I finished the first part of the test, or as it was called ‘trial’.

I nodded. “Yes Sir, I am only here to achieve the best, Sir,” I told him, standing straight as I looked ahead.

“Good, now continue.”

I ran to the next part of the trial. I had already taken the measurements in advance for this part so I climbed straight up the stairs to the roof of the building. I set up the gun. I had instruction to shoot a moving target with a red cap at exactly 13:00 hours.

I watched as there was a swarm of people all wearing the green camouflage uniform walking around, talking, jogging, running after someone, shouting or sitting. It was distracting but that was the point of the test. I was not to get distracted and I most certainly had to make sure I didn’t hit anyone apart from my target.

The watch on my wrist beeped to signal that the hour had come. I watched the crowd carefully, seeing just one person with a red cap. He had a phone in his right hand; he was walking towards a building, about to go inside. I had a twenty second window and three seconds had already passed. There was someone about to walk past him thirteen seconds away.